The Cabin November 1973
by Zane Twist
Summary: Ennis and Jack spend a week at Don Wroe's cabin. Um, there's a little sex in this one.


6

Disclaimer: In no way do I claim ownership of these characters. Indeed, I offer all my stories as thanks to the cast and crew who gave us the wonderful film of _Brokeback Mountain,_ and, ultimately, to Annie Proulx, who brought these wonderful characters into the world. I also wish to thank Jesse, Mark, Jeff, Leslie, and Steve—ladies and gentlemen, you know who you are—for their advice, suggestions, and encouragement to share my stories with others.

**The Cabin: November 1973**

Northward through Colorado and on toward Wyoming, Jack Twist floored the accelerator of his new pickup truck. The drive from Childress, Texas, to Riverton, Wyoming, and beyond was long, but Jack didn't mind. He was on his way to be with Ennis del Mar, and they would be together for a whole week in a hunting cabin in the Big Horn Mountains. Happily, Jack beat time on the steering wheel with one hand, drove with the other, while he sang along with the radio: The Allman Brothers, the Eagles, Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Jack was meeting Ennis at a rest area on the highway outside Riverton. Ennis had borrowed the use of the cabin from Don Wroe, one of the hands at the ranch where Ennis was working as a wrangler, in exchange for helping Wroe put a new roof on his house that summer. The plan was for Ennis and Jack to use the cabin as the base for their hunting, not to take Ennis's horses with them this trip. Jack liked riding into the mountains on horseback with Ennis, but was still a little pleased that they wouldn't have to spend time caring for the horses this trip, would have that extra time for themselves.

Jack coaxed a few more miles per hour out of the pickup. He missed Ennis so badly he could hardly wait. It had been more than a year since they had last seen each other. A fishing trip they had planned for that spring had had to be cancelled at the last minute when Jack's boy unexpectedly needed to have his tonsils out, and Jack couldn't leave Texas. When Jack finally was able to get away, Ennis couldn't take the time off, he and Alma were too far behind in the bills.

While Jack was redlining it north to Wyoming, Ennis was running late. Ennis glanced at the clock on the wall of the kitchen of the apartment in Riverton. He was supposed to meet Jack at the rest stop for their hunting trip in three hours, and he had just begun to pull his gear together. He hurried around the apartment, shoving clothes and gear into an old duffel, dodging his girls, busy with their Barbie dolls, avoiding Alma, tight-lipped and looking grim at the prospect of her husband taking yet another week away with his buddy Jack. He piled his gear in the kitchen, his .30-06, a full box of shells, the duffel with a few extra clothes, his razor, and his toothbrush.

Ennis carried everything out of the apartment and down to his old pickup truck. Then he went back upstairs to get his old canvas coat and to say his good-byes. Scooping both of his daughters together into one hug, he kissed them both and said, "Now you be good for your mama." "Yes, Daddy!" they both exclaimed, kissing their father in return. Ennis paused awkwardly in front of Alma. She looked as if she didn't much want to be kissed, but he felt he ought to kiss his wife good-bye anyway so settled for a quick peck on her cheek. "Be back Sunday," he said, turning for the door. He barely heard her murmured response, "Sure enough." He was thinking of Jack. Since Jack was bringing the camping gear, Ennis was bringing the food supplies for the week. He made a quick stop at the grocery store where Alma worked, loaded up on staples, and, for old times' sake, added a half a dozen cans of "Better-Most" beans. Then he was on the road.

Jack was already at the rest area when Ennis pulled in. He was leaning against the driver's door of his pickup, smoking a cigarette, and his face broke into a big grin when he recognized Ennis's truck pulling off the highway. There were other travelers in the rest area, so they limited their greeting to a quick, manly bear hug, a few slaps on the back, and their usual exchange, "Jack fuckin' Twist!" from Ennis, "Ennis, you sonofabitch!" from Jack. Quickly they transferred Ennis's gear to Jack's truck, Jack joking that Ennis didn't need to lock his old rattletrap of a pickup, that nobody could possibly want to steal it. "Locks don't work, anyway," said Ennis with a grin, and Jack laughed loudly at having his own joke turned back on him. Ennis thought how good it was to hear Jack's laugh once again.

Jack drove. They headed north into the snow-covered Big Horns. It didn't take long for them to catch up on each other's life, Jack complaining about how Lureen was becoming more married to the farm machinery business than she was to him, Ennis saying very little about Alma. "Plenty a snow in the mountains," said Ennis. "Should make for good huntin'." Before long the talk died away and they rode along in companionable silence. Once Jack caught Ennis staring at him. "What?" he said. Embarrassed at being caught staring, Ennis turned and looked out the window, said nothing for a few minutes. Then he said quietly, "It's damn good to see you, Jack." Jack smiled, reached over to pat Ennis on the thigh, said, "Damn good to see you, too, friend. I've missed you." Ennis was silent for a minute or two, then slumped a little in his seat, said, "I've missed you, too, bud."

Before they left the main highway, they stopped for supper at a diner. Ennis had good directions to the cabin, and Jack's pickup had no trouble on the snow-covered back roads once they left the main road. By the time they pulled into the cabin, it was beginning to get dark. Ennis had the key, and they unlocked the door and began to move in their gear. The cabin was built of logs, not large but snug. One wall was almost entirely taken up by a stone fireplace, with a couple of old easy chairs and a bearskin rug on the floor in front of the hearth. A large bed stood across the room in a corner. A table and four chairs, with a kerosene table lamp, stood in the center of the room. Against the back wall stood a small wood-burning stove for cooking, with an old kitchen cabinet and a table. Water came from a pump near the door. The outhouse was down the hill behind the cabin.

Once they got fires going in the fireplace and the stove, the cabin began to warm. Jack got busy setting up their quarters, so Ennis went back outside, found the ax and the wood pile, set about chopping to refill the wood box by the fireplace. Jack stowed the food in the cupboard, smiling, thinking of the old days on Brokeback Mountain when he found the cans of beans, packed a cooler with snow to keep the perishables and the beer, made a pot of coffee. Then he fixed up the bed with two large, brand-new sleeping bags that could be zipped together to make one bag.

When Ennis came back into the cabin with an armload of kindling from the woodpile, Jack was standing by the fireplace, leaning against the mantle, a cigarette in his hand, staring into the fire, sipping coffee from a tin cup. He was naked except for his boots.

Ennis smiled. At sight of Jack stripped to his boots, he felt that old familiar hot jolt shoot through him. He could not or would not name the feeling, even to himself, but it was the same feeling that had upended his life when Jack had showed up in Riverton six years ago, four years after the summer they had spent herding sheep on Brokeback Mountain.

When the blast of cold air from the open cabin door struck him, Jack looked over his shoulder, grinned amiably at Ennis, threw the butt of his cigarette into the fire.

Ennis kicked the cabin door closed behind him. With his long stride, he crossed to the bin next to the fireplace, dropped the wood in with a clatter. Stepping behind Jack, he put his arms around him, pulled him close. The below-freezing outdoor temperature clung to Ennis's coat, and Jack jumped involuntarily at the touch of the cold fabric against his bare skin. "Christ, Ennis," said Jack, "you're cold as a icicle!"

"That so?" murmured Ennis, his mouth against Jack's throat. "Then I'll just have to warm you up right quick, Jack Twist." Jack smiled as Ennis turned him around, clamped his mouth to Jack's mouth—hard. The tin cup rattled on the hearthstones as Jack's arms circled Ennis. Ennis moaned and Jack groaned in response as tongues met, stubble rasped, spit mingled. Ennis clung to Jack with one arm, fumbled with his belt buckle and jeans buttons with the other hand, didn't even bother to take off his hat and coat. He pulled Jack down onto the old bearskin in front of the hearth, hauled him up onto all fours, pulled his own pants down to his knees. Jack heard him spit into his hand, felt the warm slick against him, then the welcome, familiar pressure as Ennis entered him.

The sex went as it always went between them, quick, rough, furious, no words, but snorts, groans, laughter, sharp intakes of breath, and Jack's cry of pure joy when they both reached release together. Then down on the rug in front of the fire, Ennis's hat rolling off. They fell asleep on the rug just as they were, Ennis's clothed body curled protectively around Jack's naked one.

Jack woke first. Ennis's slow, steady breathing against the back of his neck was comforting. Jack smiled to himself at the memory of the sex. But then, unbidden, he felt a slow sadness wash over him. There was never enough time, never enough. There was so much he wanted to say to Ennis, tell him just how much he meant to him, but what was the point? Their relationship was what it was, and he knew, with a sadness and a certainty, that Ennis could not or would not change. He sighed. Gently disentangling himself so as not to wake Ennis, he stood up and looked for his coat. He spotted the blue parka where he had left it, hanging on the back of a chair. He reached into the coat's inside pocket, pulled out the whiskey bottle, unscrewed the top, took a long drink. He put the coat on. As the fire burned low, it was getting cooler in the cabin.

Slowly he walked over to the window, taking the whiskey bottle with him, and looked out. Night had fallen, but there was a moon, and the view through the glass was a Hallmark Christmas card of evergreens flocked with snow. As Jack stared vacantly through the window, he took another swig from the bottle. He turned and stared for a long time at Ennis, still asleep on the floor in front of the dying fire, his pants around his knees. When Jack turned back to the window, the view this time was blurry, as tears filled his eyes.

Feeling the sob rise in his throat, Jack bit his lip till he tasted blood to stifle the sound. The last thing he wanted was for Ennis to catch him crying. As the tears rolled down his cheeks, he thought to himself, "Damn you, Ennis del Mar! Why do I have to love you so much?" His shoulders shook with the effort to control himself.

"Jack?" He heard Ennis's groggy voice from behind him, by the fire. Jack was glad the cabin was dark. They had not lighted the lamp, so the only light in the room came from the glow of the fire. Quickly Jack ran his free hand over his face to wipe his tears. He turned. Ennis was standing, hitching up his pants. "You okay, bud?" said Ennis.

"Sure enough," said Jack.

"Thought I heard somethin'."

"Must a been the wind in the chimney," Jack replied. "Here." To change the subject, he handed Ennis the whiskey bottle. Ennis grinned, took the bottle, tipped it to his mouth, took a long drink.

Jack put his arm around Ennis's shoulders. "Well, come on, cowboy. We're goin' a do some huntin' in the mornin', time we got to bed."

While Ennis undressed, Jack shed the parka, pulled off his boots, and got into the combined sleeping bags. Then Ennis climbed in with him, and they laughed and joked a little as they sorted themselves out before settling into their usual positions when sleeping together, Jack on his side, butted up against Ennis, Ennis curled against Jack. Between the whiskey and the earlier exertion of the sex, both were asleep in minutes. But as Jack drifted into sleep, the thought came to him, "Could be just like this … always."

They filled the ensuing days with hunting or just walking together in the woods. Jack was able to keep the sadness at bay. They had fun with each other, as they always did. The hunting was good, at least for Ennis, who bagged himself a nice eight-point buck, though Jack missed a ten-pointer. With somewhat better aim, Jack nailed Ennis in the back of the head with a snowball. Ennis threw Jack heels over head into a snow bank, and they rolled around, wrestling in the drifts like a couple of kids, until they had to stop, choking on snow and laughter.

Evenings back at the cabin, they quickly feel into their old familiar routine. Both were grateful for the snug warmth of the fireplace and the stove. Supper ended, they sat in front of the fire, smoking and drinking, talking and laughing, or just sitting in companionable silence, just like the old days on Brokeback Mountain. Jack made Ennis laugh by producing his old harmonica but didn't play it. One night they shared a joint, rolled from a little pot that Jack had brought up from Texas. And always there was the sex, in the bed or in front of the fire. Their couplings remained as charged and brilliant as their first time on Brokeback ten years before, yet always, always, there was the sense of time passing, the week rushing by. A sense of sadness flavored the pleasure with a slight tang of bittersweet, Jack seeming to try to store up in his memory every minute of their time together against the long months before he would see Ennis again.

The week passed all too quickly. It seemed to Jack that they had hardly arrived before they had to pack up and head home. Jack, as usual, planned to visit his folks up in Lightning Flat before heading back to Texas, after he dropped Ennis off back at his truck. The atmosphere was a little tense, as always, as their times together came to a close. They pulled their gear together in silence. Once Ennis caught Jack staring at him with a look on his face that wasn't reproachful but was so achingly needy that Ennis had to look away, embarrassed. The ride back to the rest area where Ennis's truck was parked was mostly in silence, and the parting, as usual, was awkward. Considering what a public place they were in, they limited their good-bye to a quick, furtive bear hug and a few slaps on the back. "See you soon, bud," said Ennis before climbing into the cab of his pickup. Jack could only nod in return. He didn't trust himself to say anything. He stood watching for a long time, until Ennis's pickup disappeared into the distance, before he got into the cab of his own truck and headed up to Lightning Flat.

When Ennis got back to Riverton, there was nobody home in the little apartment over the laundromat. Alma had taken the girls to her sister's place. On the kitchen table, waiting for him, were the legal papers advising him that Alma had filed for divorce.


End file.
